


Meet The Crew

by BlairFagin



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 03:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1250629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlairFagin/pseuds/BlairFagin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After joining the crew of the Lost Light, Megatron has difficulty fitting it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lightbulb

**Author's Note:**

> Based off some wonderful prompts.

Light bounced off the edge of the energon cube, casting its shine on the table’s surface. Megatron watched it intently, trying to take his mind off the day’s events, but not finding the strength of will to do anything more productive. He had forgotten how hard it was to lead new troops, he hadn’t faced such opposition in vorns. In fact since he had first crawled out of his pit, a nobody with a cause. Since then he had earned his respect, with an overwhelming body count and conquered cities. All had feared and respected the might of Megatron, even the Autobot high command who were on constant guard around him. The crew of the Lost Light on the other hand were an enigma, they ignored him and snickered as he walked past, seemingly unafraid in his presence.

He drained the rest of his energon and made his way to the cabinet to retrieve something stronger. He was fiddling with the latch, which seemed to be stuck, when the hab suite door opened and light poured in. 

“Why is it so dark in here? You do realise your berth side lamp isn’t the only light source you have, right?” the little bot asked as he surveyed Megatron, who had ripped the latch clean off his cabinet in shock. 

“I didn’t give you permission to be in here.”

“Well, you should have locked the door then,” snapped Tailgate as he pushed the light switch. “Hm, you’re light bulb seems to be burnt out. Why didn’t you get a new one.”

“I told someone to get me one, which was a while ago. I don’t think they are coming back.”

“Next time ask me, seeing as maintaining the facilities aboard this ship has been my job ever since I admitted I wasn’t a bomb disposal expert. I have a whole heap of light bulbs stocked somewhere secret.” 

Megatron uncorked a bottle of the strongest high grade he had and motioned to pour it in a cube, then stopped. He wasn’t planning on leaving any, so might as well drink out of the bottle. He took a swig and welcomed the familiar warmth that spread across his chassis. 

“I’ll ask you again, why are you here?”

“Because you didn’t seem too happy when you left earlier. You started off with all this bravado and confidence then by the end of alpha shift you were practically dragging your knuckles on the floor your posture was so sulky.” 

“I do not sulk!”

“Look, I know you have troubles with the crew. I was wondering if you’d let me help you?”

Megatron froze, staring down at the tiny janitor with disbelief. “You want to help me?”

“If you’d let me.”

Megatron held out his bottle, Tailgate took it without hesitation and knocked back a gulp. 

“Oh frag, that’s strong.”

“I’m tipsy already. Now please take a seat and try and enlighten me with some great plan.”


	2. The Bar

“What were you thinking bring him? This is crazy.” whispered Swerve as he pulled Tailgate to the side.

“Why? He’s our captain, we should all get to know him.”

“Tailgate, we all know him. He’s a ruthless murdering tyrant.”

“Oh, come on,” whispered Tailgate none too quietly. “Optimus wouldn’t have let Megatron become an Autobot if he didn’t trust him. Remember when you were the same with Cyclonus?”

“Cyclonus was never leader of the Decepticons,” snapped Swerve. 

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No!”

“Pretty please?”

“NO!”

“Pretty please, with an energon sprinkle on top?”

“Fine,” said Swerve as he threw his hands up in defeat. “But if my bar gets wrecked you’re paying for damages.”

The little white bot squealed and caught Swerve in a crushing hug, “Thanks, Swerve. You’re the best.”

Tailgate sprinted across the room where Megatron was standing near the door, staring intently at the drink in his servo. 

“Come sit with us, Swerve said he isn’t going to kick you out if you sit with the gang.”

The captain nodded stiffly and let Tailgate lead him by the servo across the room to where a rowdy group of mechs sat. 

“Hey, everyone,” shouted Tailgate over the loud laughter and jokes. “The captain has decided to join us, so everyone be nice.”

A feather could have been heard dropping it was so quiet, the mechs didn’t even move, they’d all frozen midway in whatever they had been doing. Skid’s was leaning over Getaway to reach for his drink, Chromedome had his silly straw halfway to his intake, Brainstorm’s servos were in the air having gone still in the middle of some wild story directed at Perceptor and Rung’s calm expression seemed to be crumbling by the moment. 

“Good, no objections? I’ll get us some chairs.”

As Tailgate hurried off he kept an audial tuned to the table, no one had said anything yet. He hoped Megatron would catch on and try to break the ice. As if sensing the minibot’s thoughts or feeling the intense stare directed at the back of his helm the former warlord coughed loudly. 

“It was good of Tailgate to invite me, I was hoping to get to know my crew better.”

Still nothing. 

“I know we may have gotten off to a bad start, well more like an abysmal start, but I am hoping to change that.”

The scrape of metal against metal as Tailgate dragged the chairs across the room was uncomfortably loud in the stifling silence.

“As a way of beginning what I hope to be a satisfactory working relationship, I have decided to buy everyone a round of drinks.”

The bar exploded with noise and Tailgate squealed in fear as he dropped the chairs and covered his helm, ready for the ensuing bar fight. It didn’t happen and when the minibot looked up he saw Megatron surrounded by excited and happy bots. 

“Thanks so much, my tab has been getting ridiculously high,” laughed Skids as he clapped his captain on the back. 

“Bartender! The strongest shot you have!” shouted Getaway. 

“This is so nice, maybe I can try a cube of that vintage high grade Swerve dug up?” pondered Rung as he bounced on his heels. 

The captain forced a smile as the crew rushed to the bar and the drinks began to pour. Tailgate proudly stood by his side and gazed up. 

“What can I say, I know them well. The most beautiful group of functioning alcoholics the Autobots have.”

“I am starting to regret this, my crew are warming to me, but now they are drunk and my credits low. What happens if we are attacked?”

“Then they’ll run drunkenly towards the fight instead of the other way.”

“I suppose so. Thank you, Tailgate.”

The mini bot’s visor flashed in happiness at the praise, the first he’d ever heard Megatron give someone since he’d boarded the Lost Light. There was a million different replies running round his head, ranging from snarky to intelligent to really stupid, but he couldn’t figure out which one to say.

He simply squeaked in shock, “Your welcome.”


End file.
